


Magic Bound

by SunflowerSpectre



Category: Ghost Hunt, Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League Dark (2017)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Horror, LGBTQ Female Character, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre
Summary: Jen Constantine, with the power of her father and her mother, is a force to be reckoned with. Yet, she stays true to her roots with traditional remedies that, personally, no one at SPR really appreciates nor respects. Until a darker force, stronger than anything they thought was possible, sweeps its way throughout the country and Jen is forced to reveal her true power.
Relationships: Implied one-sided Female OC/Hara Masako, Shibuya Kazuya/Taniyama Mai, one-sided John Brown/Female OC
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an OC-Centered Fanfiction

There are things in this world that can’t be explained, things that paranormal investigators look into and explore to protect families - the everyday person.  _ Victims.  _ They are just barely scratching the surface of what they don’t yet understand; barely dipping their toes into this other world. They see it through a thin sheet of glass, too scared to look beyond it, too scared to  _ shatter _ it and dive fully into the unknown. Probably for the better - most of them would likely drown, biting off more than they can chew from things that would happily  _ chew _ them.

Evil, darkness,  _ madness…. Magic….  _ It all ties within the paranormal world, stringing through it like a sewing needle with a blood-stained thread, like a warning that no one wants to acknowledge. Its thread spreads its roots into the ground of the land and works its way into people’s souls, tempting them by disguising darkness as light, hate as love. Necromancers are born through that thread; voodoo, dark ritual magic, it all stems from it and  _ breeds _ more darkness. 

The darkness is spreading too fast, crawling its way into magic users across the world - across the  _ dimensions -  _ creating problems on world-ending proportions. It’s effecting things on a more domestic level too; on a level that doesn’t catch the eye of most heroes.

She’s seen the headlines. A man murdered his family in Amity, Ohio, using an ax to kill them in their sleep. A farmer in Nebraska killed ten teen girls before he was discovered. Several serial killers making their way through Europe. More in Australia. Drug and turf wars spreading through South America. It’s subtle, but it’s there in the really violent acts. People who claim to have no memory of what they’ve done, some saying the devil made them do it. Demon possessions -  _ demons without possession _ . Some cases even her dad worked on personally. Some she was even present for. 

That violence seeps into the soil and breeds a level of violence that attracts things on a more paranormal level - things that don’t belong here in this realm. Things that normal paranormal investigators aren’t ready for when they’re still filming chairs moving in the middle of the night or waiting hours for a toy car to cross the room.

She doubts that she’s ready for it, but she’s not scared of it. Unafraid of drowning in it, it’s everything she was raised for - everything she grew up with. So she is going to at least try her damn best. Nowadays, her father is doing God-knows-what, probably pissing off the wrong types of people and creatures, but hopefully helping with some world threat or another. The more she thinks about it, the more she believes that he’s just passed out in some bar on the other side of the galaxy. Uncle Jason won’t be any help, but at least with him, she  _ knows  _ that he’s tracking down some world threat or dark force. Likely has his hands full doing it too.

But at least she knows that they have the bigger threats covered in their dimension; she can’t help but worry for others. Worry for the ones that have never had the same sort of world-ending crises with heroes to stop it. The ones that lack heroes. The ones that are full of everyday people trying to get by. She knows that she can be that hero - somewhere deep in her bones. Maybe not the righteous type of hero, maybe not even the biggest or strongest one, but she can be  _ a  _ hero to those who need her. 

So she steps through the portal into another dimension, knowing that she’s fully on her own, but thankful that at the very least it’s a  _ parallel _ earth. Different - with a lack of tight-wearing heroes in the news and world threats, but familiar -  _ normal. _ At least on the surface. Just like her world, she can feel the darkness breeding under her feet. The energy creeping through the air of monsters and demons and ghouls.  _ Now that’s familiar. _

A loud crash comes from behind her, causing her to jump and turn swiftly to see a familiar spirit looking at her sheepishly, a broken vase shattered on the floor.  _ Almost on my own. _

“This is the last time I ask a spirit to help me move,” she groans, rubbing her temples, “I told you not to touch anything breakable. That vase could’ve had some trapped spirit or force inside of it. Breaking it could have released some awful evil upon the world that cannot be banished, only contained.”

Boston blinks blankly and looks down at the vase, kicking it with his foot - which doesn’t do much, being a spirit, his foot goes through its remains. Jen steps forward to start picking up the pieces, looking over each one with a furrowed brow.

“Did it?”

She turns over to show a sticker on the bottom of one of the pieces with a relieved sigh.

"No, I got this one one sale. But my point remains - I think  _ that _ something is trapped in that one.”

She jabs her thumb toward the unmoving, small red jar on the shelf behind her.

“ _ You think,” _ Boston balks, his eyes wide before he glances at the other vases that are placed throughout the room - unsure and untrusting. He does a double take at the blue tall one near the door that moves.

Jen doesn’t seem nearly as concerned as he is, even as he points at the vase that periodically wiggles. She shrugs, uncaring, and just points toward the salt circle around it, inferring that he has nothing to worry about despite his insisting otherwise. She instead focuses on the shattered store-bought (and safe) vase with a frown. She waves her hands, sigils forming in the air around each finger as a purple magic-infused wind sweeps up the remains for her and brings them back together to form the original vase. 

She meticulously looks it over and makes a satisfied nod when she sees no signs of the damage that occurred. She sets it on its rightful shelf as Boston watches her with a tired expression, floating a few inches off the ground as he crosses his legs.

“If you can do that, Jennykins, I don’t see why you need any help -” He catches her expression and crinkles his nose, “Yeah, yeah, I know, you like to use the  _ traditional  _ way of things, but come on, a little magic ain’t ever hurt nobody. You already use it to fix everything you break.” 

She crosses her arms against her chest, “One, don’t call me  _ Jennykins.  _ It’s Jen. Just  _ Jen.  _ Two, everything  _ you  _ break and that’s what magic does. It’s supposed to  _ fix  _ things, not make you too lazy to do anything yourself. Besides, magical cancer and all that shit ring any bells? Too much of anything is bad for you - magic included.”

He snorts, "Maybe you should tell ya father that."

“Yeah,” she raises a brow, “And how do you suppose I do that? Through the cell he never answers, the emails he never reads, or a summoning he banishes before it can even work?”

Boston scratches at his head with an expression on his face that tells her that he knows that she’s right. She nods triumphantly and turns her back to him to continue rearranging furniture. A new office isn’t easy work between the furniture, the jewels, gemstones, warding, and plants. It’s a lot of damn work. The good news is that at least she’s almost done. Two more boxes of artifacts sit against the wall, a few paintings and artwork lay beside them. Freshly potted plants aline the window sill and there’s multiple plants hanging from the ceiling. Incenses and essential oils burn in a container on a shelf, filling the room with peaceful aromas.

“You didn’t have to follow me to this place, you know. For all I knew, this could have been some weird apocalyptic dimension or something.” She opens the last two remaining boxes, with a flourishing swipe of a box knife. “It’s not as if you’re bound to me or anything. You have free will and a hunger for justice to fill.”

"I think you just answered your own question, baby cakes. I am  _ not _ prepared to leave you  _ by yourself _ . No way, no how, sweetcheeks." 

Boston lingers behind her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, “Besides you tend to find all of the tormented souls anyway. You take care of helping them move on and I get to bring their killers to justice. It’s a win-win.”

Jen rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny his logic as she begins setting out different artifacts from the boxes on one of the bookshelves. She pays careful attention to their markings and intent, not wanting to mix anything that shouldn’t be mixed. She already burned the entire area with sage, cleansing absolutely everything so the artifacts’ energy won’t be affected by any lingering negativity within the shelves’ wood or the air. Pink himalayan salt sits in a shell on the table in the center of the room to soak up any negativity that may enter. The wards that have been set make her bare feet tingle, knowing that they are working properly. Salt lines the windows, hidden by potted plants. There’s a small break in a salt line at the door so Boston can go and leave as he pleases, but he knows that when the office is locked, the line will be filled in.

She may not always know what she’s doing, but she’s not stupid enough to let Boston have free-range of any artifacts in the office.

"I'm still surprised Blood let you have this."

Boston admires one of stones,, his hand reaching out to touch it, eyes wide as saucers. She slaps his hand away. He looks at her with a stunned, hurt expression, holding his hand to his chest as it sizzles. She gives him her best  _ no duh  _ expression as she lifts her right hand at him, particularly the middle finger - a double ring shines brilliantly, reflecting off sunlight that comes in through the opened window. He recoils at the sight.

"I'm offended you think you need that for me. I'm wounded, Jen,  _ wounded." _

Her grin turns devilish, “The Clairsentient, the only ring made by some god or another who got tired of Hades’ shit and decided that they should be able to touch spirits too. Little did they know, it would prove to be one of the most effective method on scolding annoying  _ pests.” _

“But it burns,” Boston whines, but he won’t be gaining any sympathy. 

“Visit Hell, then you can complain about burning.” He grumbles  _ touche  _ at her comment as she sighs, “In the meantime, your help is much appreciated in shelving these volumes of Muse. And Boston -”

She gives him a pointed look, waving toward the direction of the stone that  _ oozes _ atrocious energy, “ _ Don’t touch it.  _ In fact,  _ don’t touch anything.  _ I have one rule -  _ follow it.” _

She taps on the sign that she just finished putting up on the wall. Sitting in a nice frame is a beautifully embroidered piece, full of flowers that reads  _ Don’t Fucking Touch Anything.  _ Boston sheepishly shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck as he makes his way toward his assigned task, muttering curses under his breath and making a few choice expressions at her behind her back.

It takes three minutes of working on shelving the books before he finally stops grumbling under his breath - he gives up trying to possess her to change her mind, but a quick kick to the shin got him to stop. She’s worked with her father for years, but Boston is the real reason she’s thankful for the Clairsentient. She glances around the magical artifacts in the room - the various stones and gems, the shield with ancient ruins that hang on the wall, the haunted doll on a table contained by an enchanted glass dome, various vases that contain various things. The list is essentially endless, especially combined with the extensive book collection of various magics - ancient, modern, and warding. She thinks that she got it all covered and a few hours later, she can’t help but feel a sense of pride of what’s been accomplished.

Everything looks beautiful and the room feels light and warm. The plants add a touch of life that balances everything out. The desk, filing cabinets, bookcases, shelves, are all a reminder that it’s an office. 

_ Her  _ office. That’s a lot to take in. She was thrilled to know that this parallel earth has the same currency rates - including the same type of interest in gold. The gold she brought along with her was enough to pay for everything and even as she filled out the paperwork to buy the building, she debated long and hard about what the name of her new agency should be called.

She can’t exactly use her last name, it would just be a big bright neon sign to everything magical in the entire dimension that  _ hey I’m right here.  _ Not exactly helpful when her goal is to help all the people suffering from the magical, mystical, and paranormal. 

Boston has tried to give several name suggestions, but all were turned down when a majority were more suited for a more  _ adult  _ workplace. It took a long time for her to settle on  _ Lifetower.  _ She may or may not have heard of the Watchtower from her father and decided to stick to the theme. She may as well considering that no one here would be able to put the pieces together anyway.

“Jennygirl, it’s past your bedtime,” Boston chimes and she turns to see him pointing toward the clock, “We should probably head out. It’s getting pretty late.”

She resists the urge to correct him on the fact that since she is an adult, and on her own, she doesn’t have a bedtime, but a yawn overpowers it. He is right, it is late. She nods sleepily and follows him out of the room, barely remembering to grab a container of salt to bind the line after she left. She turns off the lights, makes it through the doorway, about to finish the salt line, when her eyes look through the dark office at the rocks that stand out against the shadows - she chooses to swallow down her annoyance at the shadows that seem to move across the wall.


	2. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something causes the lay lines beneath her office to surge, creating a surge in energy that is overwhelming and threatening - meanwhile a certain televised medium pays a visit to the new office in town.

Every morning for the past month, she walks right into the office, casually reaching one hand to steady that one tall blue vase that always seems to wiggle. Two weeks in, she remembers what it’s inside of it and re-salting and warding the circle around it becomes part of her daily routine. She sits at her desk. Checks her emails. The voicemails. The internet. Circles around the room. Does some yoga. Checks the internet again. Restless, impatience starts to crawl under her skin with the itching feeling that something is just not right. It never feels right. 

So she does more research. Prints out maps, news clippings and uses a mix of that and red thread pinned to a corkboard on the wall to figure out where this dimension’s lay lines are. Does it a bit more to figure out where this country’s lay lines are and notes with mild amusement that once again she managed to land herself on a strong lay line where more activity will be prevalent. She does keep files at her desk - not to just make it look like she’s busy, but because she _actually_ _is_ as she dives into the unsolved cases, the rumors, and the few sightings of rare cryptids in the country. She makes notes on each one, scribbling them down with a half-dead sharpie and it’s there - in the more unnerving cases, the local reports of hauntings, the one-minute halloween news specials, that she starts to find her work.

_ Lifetower _ starts to build a name for itself as her reputation begins to solidify during her third month of work. With enough to pay the bills, she starts to slow down, pay more attention to the cases that actually interest her rather than the easy ones that pay. She tries to never turn anyone down; she can’t when clients look at her with so much pained desperation and fear.

She sighs as she listens to her voicemail again. She deletes one after the other as voices drill on about palm reading, tarots, and fortune telling. She adds a note on her website that  _ she does not  _ provide those services. She can’t afford her name being slandered; the more respectable part of the paranormal community, the ones with genuine gifts, don’t always take well to that business. Granted that there are gifted psychic and clairvoyants in the field, most being praised in the paranormal community, those who tend to offer fortune telling services are often shams. And are treated as such whether or not the person offering it has gifts.

Jen looks into her tea cup, eying the leaves and hopes that the paranormal professionals are right - that fortune telling heads no truth. According to the leaves, hers isn’t looking too good right now. With a sigh, a bit in disappointment, she turns to Boston just in time to see him reach for a book off of the shelf. He stops when he sees Jen watching him, raising an eyebrow in warning. He pulls away from the shelf, sheepish at getting busted for messing with the books’ order. She’d rather not have to rearrange them again or waste her own magic energy to fix his shenanigans, but she’s given up trying to get him to fix his own pranks. It’s not as if she has any real control over him anyway.

“You know, Jennygirl,” Boston hovers off of the ground, his voice distorting through the room. She learned as a kid not to focus on the fact that she always sees right through him or the way his face doesn’t have proper eyes. “I’ve said it before, but this place is dead even for a spiritualist. What you need are some better paying  _ clients.”  _

“What I need is a coffee maker and a good silencing spell,” she mumbles under her break, rubbing her temples as her head begins to pound. He doesn’t notice her comment - or rather, he does and chooses to ignore it. 

The hairs on her neck stand up as he breathes down it. 

“I can scare a few people maybe,” he wiggles his fingers in the air ominously, “Spook a few people, maybe whisper your name or write it on the wall with blood and hope they get the message.”

Jen leans back in her chair, causing him to drift through her body - he  _ oomphs  _ as he gets a bit distorted and drifts through the desk before settling in front of it. Her arms cross against her chest as she looks at him, unimpressed.

“That may have worked on Batman when you needed him to recruit my dad, but if you do it here, you know damn well that they’re going to be calling some priest, not a barely-legal self-proclaimed spiritualist. And I am not going to let you use the blood in the fridge for something like that.”

He glances toward the small mini-fridge in question. He gagged the first time that she put the IV in and filled a blood bag so casually and nonchalantly as she shrugged at him and gave a half-assed explanation about how she is always prepared. She continues to fill it up when she’s able to, spacing it out just enough that it doesn’t hurt her. He learns that it pays off the first time that she gets hurt on the job; seriously enough to actually use one of the bags. He also learns that it becomes her bargaining chip to some of the more blood-thirtsy things in the shadows. He stops helping her fill the bags after that.

“I could always get an animal - squirrel, maybe?”

Jen hums in thought, furrowing her brows before shaking her head at even considering the idea, “You know what? Maybe writing my name in any type of blood isn’t the smartest -”

She’s cut off by the door swinging open. She’s barely able to stay in her chair, her body prepared to fight. Boston, who can’t be seen by the average person, still jumps before taking a place behind Jen as if she can shield him from being seen. She almost snaps at him for it, but she’s too focused on the person that walked in.

The stranger is small and the way the sleeves of her kimino falls around her hands and shoulders make her seem even smaller. She has a familiar face that Jen can’t quite place. The aura and energy around her give her away as some type of medium or psychic. Strong, but in a low-level, typical run of the mill way. Cropped black hair falls just past her ears and her dark eyes have an almost violent shine to them. She looks around the room curiously, lingering on a few items here and there, carefully considering the ruins etched on parchment that’s placed along some of the wall space and the salt barriers lining the windows and a few of the objects. 

Jen flushes when the stranger meets her eyes, taking in a sharp breath at the intense coloring of her irises.  _ Damn.  _ Her heart skips a beat. She stares a bit more than she should, admiring the way the stranger’s bangs fall against pale cheek bones. The stranger finally looks away to glance around the section around the desk and a part of Jen wonders if she’s sensing Boston.

" _ She's pretty easy on the eyes, huh Jen," _ Boston whispers,nudging Jen in her side. All she can do is nod dumbly before remembering that she hasn’t even said anything yet.

“Good morning, my name is Constantine Jen,” the Japanese falls a bit awkward on her tongue, but is easily understandable. Her young years of watching anime pays off when she finds out that parallel dimension or otherwise, the language is the same. “How can I help you today?”

The stranger tilts her head, a look in her eyes tells Jen that in some way or manner, the stranger is testing her. Assessing her. It makes her feel compromised;  _ naked. _ Jen’s smile falters. The girl’s eyes flicker to the back of the wall and then toward the bookshelf.

“Palm Reading for Experts? Do you perform that service here,” she looks at Jen curiously, “For what price would you offer such a service?”

Jen’s smile becomes more forced as she lets out a harsh sigh through her teeth. She tries not to meet the stranger’s gaze, lest she gets lost in them. She stands her ground, she hasn’t reached that low yet. She’s not her father, after all, no matter how much she wants to. 

_ I bet her hands are soft.  _ Jen almost thinks that it’s a part of conscious speaking to her before she realizes that Boston is wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  _ Damn that spirit.  _

“While I am capable of performing such a task, I do not offer it as a service. My speciality is helping those plagued by spiritual or paranormal forces. I can’t imagine a higher energy medium like you needing any help, but I am welcome to be of service if you need me. But if you have come here for any fortune telling, tarot readings, or anything of the sort, then I give you my sincerest apologies and will have to ask you to leave. If you’d like I can give you the number of a more localized fortune teller, who comes highly recommended.”

Boston leans down and whispers into her ear,  _ “No wonder you don’t get many clients.” _

She swats at him over her shoulder, hoping the gesture can pass as swatting away a fly. The stranger, however, notices and eyes Jen cautiously with only a bit of hostility. 

“I don’t require any of  _ your _ assistance,” she says  _ your  _ as if she speaks to the lowest creature she has ever met, venom dripping from her words, “Nor am I here for a palm reading.”

Maybe it’s from the way Jen finds her eye twitching, but suddenly the beautiful stranger is just a normal, plain stranger who isn’t as welcome in her office. The stranger has the nerve to continue as if her words even make sense.

“I hoped that I could actually be of service to you.”

Jen blinks dumbly at the words before she speaks, trying to string together the stranger’s meaning, “I’m sorry? We’re not currently hiring right now.”

_ Oh strike one.  _ The stranger looks annoyed, her lips forming a pout as her eye twitches and her aura flares. Jen grins.  _ She must be a fiery one, those ones are always fun, I wonder how long until I make her final nerve snap.  _ She almost forgot how much fun it is to piss people off -  _ no wonder Boston does it so much.  _ But the stranger doesn’t snap, merely take a deep, calming breath before turning back to Jen.

“I was passing through when the energies at this location caught my attention,” she speaks slowly as if she doesn’t think Jen would be able to follow along, “I had hoped that I could be of service for cleansing this area of such energies.”

Boston lets out a booming laugh that makes Jen hide a flinch at the sudden, loud noise in her ear. She’s not nearly as amused as he is. She crosses her arms against her chest and makes a clicking sound against the roof of her mouth with her tongue before rolling it over her lips with a smack. 

“Take a look around, sweetheart, does it really look like I need help?”

The stranger bristles, her lip curling, “As positive as most of the energy is, it doesn’t change the fact that I can feel an underlying tone of darkness.  _ Obviously,  _ you can’t sense it but there is a spirit within this very area that may even be causing it. You can read all the books you want, but this sort of work requires a naturally born talent - a  _ gift  _ \- that no book can give.”

“ _ Obviously _ ,” Jen mimics, resting the urge to laugh.  _ She thinks she’s hot shit - more like a hot mess.  _

Boston doesn’t take too kindly to the stranger’s words either, rolling his eyes as he idly drifts past her before settling a good foot above her from behind. He openly mocks her as she speaks, complete with the puppet-like hand gestures. Jen snorts, causing the stranger to glare at her. 

“Nice glare, I’ve seen better,” Jen casually plops down on the empty space of her desk, her bare legs crossing as she leans forward with a wicked smile, “And I’m not stupid.” 

She gestures to the room, referring to the wards, stones and other guards, the need to prove the stranger wrong raises. “Why do you think I have so many wards in place? It was draining and time consuming, so I can assure you that it wasn’t for fun. But that so-called darkness is contained and frankly, I’m gonna nicely ask you to leave if you insist on insulting my expertise.”

Jen’s eyes narrow in warning, “And I don’t want to ask again in a not-so-nice way.”

The stranger moves forward in a huff, a forceful stomp in her step. Boston gives a holler, urging Jen on. Frankly, she doesn’t really appreciate this pretty stranger shitting on her. Clients, she understands their hesitations, they’re scared, they don’t know what’s going on, and they don’t know if she will really help their problem. But this girl is a psychic, so what is her excuse?  _ She thinks she’s better than me? A fucking Constantine.  _

“The door’s the other way,  _ sweetheart.” _

The stranger purses her lip and her nose twitches, she’s getting impatient.  _ Good. Glad to know the feeling is mutual.  _ Jen’s focuses slip briefly, a ringing in her ears as she glances toward the vase by the door. This, however, the stranger does seem to notice. She takes a step backward with an angry, furrowed brow and a snarl.

“ _ You -” _

Her voice is sharp and crass, sounding harsher than before. She cuts herself off with a sudden confusion, closing her eyes as she takes a calming breath. She visibly jumps when the vase beside her wiggles, watching it with confused, wide eyes. 

  
“Alright, here’s the not so nice way,” Jen stands from the desk and gently nudges the stranger toward the door. She places a hand on the stranger’s back. She does her best to project a protective aura around the girl, pushing away the darkness that threatens her. She whispers sharply in her ear, “ _ Leave. Now.” _

The demand causes the stranger’s attention to snap back to Jen, a strange look on her face that’s not quite anger nor irritation. She looks  _ scared.  _ She takes the hint and like that, she’s out of the door in a confused, hurried shuffle. Boston moves out of her way instinctively, as if he wouldn’t have gone through her. He lets out a low whistle. 

“ _ Wow.  _ What a fucking show. Who the fuck does she think she is acting all superior?”

Jen’s lips twitch in amusement, but hurries back to the desk frantically. People acting that superior doesn’t bother her too much, not when she knows that they don’t know just who she is yet or what she can do. What does bother her, however, is the vase by the door and the other magical artifacts in the room, all seeming to surge with energy.

“Boston,” Jen’s tone causes him to snap his attention toward her with concern, “She shouldn’t have been able to sense it.”

Technically, Jen shouldn’t be able to sense it like this either. Unsure of if it is the lay lines in the city acting up, she watches each artifact in her room carefully as if any one of them may break free. She bites her lower lip hard enough that it bleeds and cracks. The energy grows stronger. She can’t take her eyes off of any of it. The room radiates with such an energy that it’s captivating, pulling her in, trying to get her to… something. She takes a deep breath and two steps back, hunched over, she closes her eyes and refuses. She feels sick, as if she’s going to throw up. Dizzy. Disorientated. Confused. She can’t figure out what she’s feeling and she wants to be frustrated. She ignores the pulsing sensation that lashes out as if it’s trying to cling to something within her, trying to grab a hold of her. Her mind swirls as she tries to figure out why the lay lines beneath her are surging - why it’s affecting her artifacts so much. 

She opens her eyes and just like that, it’s gone. 


	3. Jealous Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen is a bit bitter about her competition, but sulking will get her no where.

When the surge passes, Jen’s cheeks are flushed as she resets her wards and protection. Such a surge in the lay line has left its influence, with many of her objects showing their irritation and growth, and she can’t help the bit of worry that builds up in her chest. It’s been awhile since she’s felt a lay line actually surge - such a boost is so uncommon and rare. She hopes that it’s a natural reaction, likely due to the shift in the dimension’s energies from so much seeping through the cracks of the other dimensions, including her own as well as who-knows how many hell dimensions.

She crosses her fingers that the headlines will be clear of any tragic events.

A large part of her still worries, but ultimately, she puts her faith in her bindings. At least it's contained enough to continue on with what business she does have. Bills don't pay themselves and there are only so many times she can use the gold that she has brought with her; putting aside quite a lot for emergency situations or if she were to move to another dimension on a whim.

But continuing with business isn’t exactly the right words to use; that would imply that she had clients to attend to, which at the moment, she does not. She has called a few people back, left messages when she could. Until she hears back, there’s not much she can do except for research. She hyper focuses on the news clippings she finds online and dives into the stories that catch her interest, putting them aside for later. She puts faith into her abilities to be able to help as many as she can; pride swells in her chest as she remembers that even her Uncle Jason Blood has faith in her. Hell, he encouraged her to travel in the first place.

"I don't get it, Boston. I've done the ads, contacted churches, even reached out to a reportedly few haunted spots.” Jen absently searches through her desk during her research break, taking out a bag of chips to munch on as she talks.

“Everyone is either not interested or it's been handled by this so-called SPR group."

Boston nods, listening intently, "Yeah that SPR place seems to be naggin' too much business in this area. Have you tried payin' them a visit? Seein' what the big deal is?"

She snorts, muttering under her breath about how back home Constantine, is a pretty 'big deal.' A bit of bitterness forming on her tongue. Her father had issues, more than he can handle at times, but that didn't stop the fact that he was - is - a big time exorcist. No one knows who Constantine is here. She thought it would be refreshing to have no one compare her to him or condemn her for her father's sins, but she's beginning to miss being a 'big deal.' Though she definitely doesn't miss the attention that being a Constantine gets from the paranormal.

_ I wonder if ghosts are internationally connected enough to know about me? _ She's sure the demons would know, but what about the everyday average spirit? Poltergeist? She's not sure what she wants that answer to be.

"And say what?  _ Hey stop stealing all the cases because you're not the only ones with bills to pay? _ Yeah, I'm sure it'd go over well."

She grumbles under her breath in a mocking tone. Boston looks at her curiously before he gets a cheeky grin on his face, sliding over to her with his hands behind his back.

"Soundin' a bit jealous there, Jenny."

"I am not," she swats at him, trying to shoo him away. He just hums thoughtfully with that same grin.

" _ Yes you are~ _ "

Before she continues arguing with a spirit - of all things - the phone rings. Boston lets out a shout as she pushes him out of the way, quite literally, to reach to the phone before it stops going off. Her feet slide across the wooden floors, causing her to nearly crash into the desk, but at least she reaches the phone in time. With a smile she knows that they can't see, she answers in her best customer service voice.

"Lifetower, for all of your psychic, paranormal, and otherworldly needs. This is Constantine Jen, how can I help you today?"

It takes a moment before a voice quietly speaks up, as if they're afraid to be overhead by someone - or something.

" _...Hello? My name is Nakamoto Kana. I need help. It's my daughter - she just… she says she's seeing things, things that aren't there. I thought maybe she was imagining it, but the things she's describing and now things are happening… _ "

She grabs a notebook and pen from the desk, glaring at Boston for his close proximity, his ear turned to the phone as he tries to listen in. She writes  _ Nakamoto Kana _ in big letters at the top, along with the number that showed on the Called ID. A part of her hopes that this woman's poor daughter really is just imagining things, but the other part that acknowledges that there is a chance that this woman's daughter is seeing very real, very scary things, makes her gut turn.

Seeing the things that go bump in the night, the things that no one else wants to acknowledge exists, is serious at any age. It will mess you up. Her father first saw them in the people on a bus when he was thirteen - it landed him in the hospital with slit wrists. She saw them before she could talk, staring down at her while she played with toys within a crib with dark shadows surrounding her. It's things that you wish you could forget, but it's always there, burning in the back of your mind along with all the fear you first felt. She's been doing this for a while, seeing things as long as she can remember, and there are still things that make her blood run cold.

"Deep breaths, Nakamoto-san, I will do everything in my power to help you and your family. Why don't you start by telling me everything you can about what's been going on and what your daughter is describing? Is she experiencing any other strange behaviors, personality changes, not sleeping?"

" _ A few years ago, she told me there were demons in the house with eyes darker than any night. She used to draw them. I just… I can't imagine that that's really what my little girl is seeing. She keeps saying that they tell her that her soul is damned. _ "

The woman chokes up a bit, coughing as she tries to find her voice,  _ "She doesn't sleep for more than two hours a night, if at all. She doesn't eat anymore either. If we're lucky, we can get her to eat maybe a bowl of soup. Lately, she doesn't even want to eat that. She just stays in her room, mumbling to herself or has random fits. We've tried medications, but nothing seems to help. And now, things are starting to move around on their own… I just… I'm desperate. Doctors can't help, so maybe you and the others can…" _

Jen raises an eyebrow as she writes the information down, failed medications, desperate mother, black eyed demons, random fits, screaming, loss of sleep, loss of appetite…  _ Oppression, maybe? _ Doubtful of a full possession considering the mother has yet to mention anything violent, but something makes Jen pause.

"...Others?"

The woman has the decency to sound embarrassed,  _ "You're… not the first person I've called. The other group - SPR I believe - is still here, but nothing they're doing is working." _

She trails off and it takes a moment for Jen to realize just who the 'others' are. She can't help the devious idea that begins to form in her mind. This was perfect, all she would have to do is accept, meet this so-called SPR group, show them what she can do, show their client what she can do and boom. Suddenly SPR isn't as hot as they'd like to believe and meanwhile, her business will bloom once word gets out. She can beat them at their own game, steal their case for a change. It'd be a piece of cake.

"That'll be no problem," honey drips from her voice, causing Boston to look at her in confusion.

Jen writes down a quick note to him -  _ SPR is there, I have a plan _ . He sighs, but ultimately seems to come to terms with it.

"I'm sure we can all find a way to either work together or work around each other. When and where would you like me to come by?"

As Jen writes down the address followed by a time for tomorrow, she grins. Suddenly, things are looking up. Hopefully sales will be too.


	4. The Nakamoto Case: Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen and the SPR get to know each other as Jen joins them for the Nakamoto Case; though her relations with some of the members are strained.

It is a simple case; at least by Jen’s standards since it doesn’t involve anything too life-threatening and violent. She opts to take a taxi to the address so that she can read over her case notes; every so often, Boston doesn’t hesitate to possess the poor driver just for his own amusement. As long as he’s going the right way and lets her read, she lets him. 

_Kana Nakamoto._ Her daughter, _Kimura,_ is six years old and is the one that drew in concern. She claims to see demons all around the house; she has been five, but it has grown a lot of traction in the past six months to a concerning degree. Jen makes a scribbled down note about the possible connection to the growing darkness that has seeped across the dimensions; she makes another side note, mostly out of curiosity, to ask the mother if anything happened the same day of the lay line surge. 

Along with the notes are the pictures Kana sent in. All drawings from Kimura of the beings she claims to see; none have prominent features that stick out to Jen that would make her think it was any specific type of demon. Black eyes are a common enough feature that the drawings, while worrying, are fairly generic and common. Based on the pictures alone, it isn’t a case that would draw Jen’s attention without someone else calling her about it. But the thing that worries her the most is that Kimura will go into panic attacks. Fits of rage. Black out episodes. Fainting. The biggest concern being her lack of appetite and sleep - that, along with the temptation of showing up SPR - is why Jen accepts it. 

According to Kana, Kimura is very firm in what she sees. Aside from things moving around, the others in the house don’t seem affected and have yet to see or experience anything directly. Medication hasn’t helped. Other investigators have tried to no success. If Kana Nakamoto’s call is anything to go by, it seems that SPR isn’t too much better.

Jen grins, enough to draw a concerned look from a Boston-possessed driver. _Can’t ask for a better case._ It should be pretty direct - open and shut. Nothing that she shouldn’t be able to handle and something that she can do that the SPR can’t. Something that would look rather good for her reputation and resume. 

As she draws closer to the house, the taxi driving through a narrow driveway, she frowns deeply at the sensation that floods her veins - or rather the lack of. 

_“What’s the matter, buttercup?”_ Boston parks the car and looks over his shoulder, “ _It’s your big break!”_

Jen shakes her head slowly, “That’s the problem. I think a _big break_ is a bit of a stretch. Look around Boston, do you see anything here?”

He shakes his head with a shrug, _“Not really, but you’re the one with all the mystic mumbo-jumbo, not me.”_

She snorts, “Yeah and my _mystic mumbo-jumbo_ isn’t tell me anything. Amplified emotions, sure, and I would be concerned if this wasn’t such a high stress situation. The daughter’s probably freaked out, the mom is terrified, that’s all pretty normal in any case, but what’s not is that I don’t actually sense anything that is causing their fear.”

_“Huh.”_ Boston frowns, “ _No baddies, then?”_

“Notta,” she shakes her head, “Not even a low-level spirit. But just because I can’t see anything here doesn’t mean that something isn’t going on. This woman’s daughter is going through something and it’s my job now to find out what.”

Boston hums in thought, but doesn’t offer much. Jen, however, just frowns deeply No ghosts. No spirits. No demons. Not unless they’re very _good_ at hiding. _A curse, maybe? Some sort of hex? Maybe a backfired spell if the girl practices stuff._ She hopes that it’s something like a curse, as bad as that sounds. If it isn’t that or something similar, then the daughter’s psyche may play a factor and that is something that Jen has little that she can do aside from some charms. She could use a spell to (quite literally) get into the girl’s head, which would against the whole ‘natural’ thing she has going now, but that can prove to be dangerous if she doesn’t know the girl’s mental state. She could end up getting trapped or worse. 

_But I don’t think I’m in over my head just yet._

Boston leaves the driver, who looks around in a daze and squints when he sees the miles on the meter and the new location. But he doesn’t have time to ask any questions as Jen hands over the amount due - along with a good sized tip - and is already out of the car.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Mai huffs, crossing her arms against her chest as she takes a seat with a pout. _I wonder why Naru even took this case. There’s not anything really going on here; we haven’t even got a single piece of evidence aside from a moving bookcase. Maybe a poltergeist, but Naru doesn’t seem very convinced._

She sighs deeply, _it’s already been three days._ She can already feel the boredom starting to set in her bones; it’s not as if she _wants_ the place to be haunted, but she was hoping for _something_. She vaguely starts to wonder about the one video they did catch; she wonders if someone in the house rigged the bookcase. Maybe that was why Naru doesn’t seem to like it. Or maybe, like always, there is something else going on that she won’t know about until the last second since Naru doesn’t like sharing his plans or thought process. She swears she could just slap some sense into him sometimes. 

She glances toward the door; Nakamoto-san just left a few moments ago when the doorbell rang. _\- And I wonder who is here? She didn’t mention anything about any guests and I thought the whole family was already present._ She looks toward Naru, who has a deep set frown on his face. _He doesn’t exactly look too happy;_ whoever is at the door interrupted them going over the bookcase video with Nakamoto-san. His irritation at the interruption is apparent as he leans against the wall with a mild snarl of his lips.

“Wonder who it is,” John comments, taking a seat by Mai. His bright, curious smile evens out the grumpy energy from Naru. “She didn’t mention anyone coming, did she?”

“No,” Naru closes his eyes in frustration, letting out a long sigh through his nose, “But I have a feeling I know who it is.” 

“Want to share with the rest of the class,” Monk raises an eyebrow, but Naru isn’t nearly as amused. 

“Yesterday she called Lifetower - another paranormal investigation group not too far from our own base. Apparently she’s not too convinced in our abilities to solve this case.”

Mai’s eyes widen; but she’s not the only one surprised. On some level, everyone is startled at the revelation. Yasu lets out a low whistle while John merely owlishly blinks in shock. Ayako is the most openly irritated, grumbling under her breath, though Monk isn’t too far behind her, being more openly vocal about his frustration. _Lifetower, huh?_ Mai wonders. _I haven’t heard of them before. Are they a less popular group or a new one? Naru doesn’t seem too threatened by the mention of them, just frustrated._

“What,” Ayako screeches, “Then why are we even here? If she wants someone else, let them do it.”

  
“I hate to say it, but she has a point,” Monk agrees, if a bit hesitant, “Why are we still here if she thinks we can’t do it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Lin speaks up as he stands from his spot near the monitors, “We were paid to do a job and we will do that job no matter who else she hires.”

“And it will give us the opportunity to show her exactly why she doesn’t need a different group,” Naru adds, “and show Lifetower that it’s quite rude to take over someone’s case in the middle of it.”

  
“Funny I didn’t peg you for the showoff type,” Monk gives a dry, sarcastic comment as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms with amusement.

Mai rolls her eyes with a snort. _Yeah right, we all know that Naru will take any chance he has to show he’s ‘so much better’ than anyone else,_ the bitterness lingers in her mouth as she frowns. But it deepens when she looks toward Masako, who looks more confused than anything else.

“Did you say Lifetower,” Masako’s voice is quiet, as if she’s mulling over the name in familiarity.

“Do you know it,” John questions, “I don’t think I’ve personally heard of them, but maybe if I know the name of the investigator -”

“It’s Constantine Jen.”

Their heads all turn toward the door at the unknown voice. Mai, especially, takes in the sight of the young woman who stands there with a cocky smirk on her lips. Unlike Naru, despite the smirk, her bright brown eyes seem friendly and more approachable. Not nearly as cold as her _dear leader._ The stranger doesn’t seem much older than Naru, though. Maybe a year or two at most. Dirty blonde hair is pulled into a half ponytail at the back of her head, with two strands being loose around her face, shaping it nicely but messily. Her outfit doesn’t seem local nor professional, looking more western and casual with her top layer being loose and low cut to reveal the crocheted crop top underneath it. Her skirt barely reaches her knees and looks just as loose as her outer top. 

With multiple gems and stones on a thin rope around her neck, Mai wonders if they have any sort of meaning to them or if it is just for decor. She spots the just as many rings, ranging from silver to gold to other misc. Jewels and metals and makes the decision that it’s all just a fashion choice. Despite the casualness, and almost risque, appearance to her, there’s something about her that Mai can’t quite place her finger on. As if she is bigger than she looks - or is hiding something. She glances toward Naru from the corner of her eyes; it reminds her of the same feeling she gets from Naru sometimes.

Oddly enough, Mai looks at what Jen carries with her with curiosity. The files under her arm makes sense, but the small almost child-sized metal lunch box that she also carries does not. Jen immediately sets both items on the table, not bothering to explain either.

Only one person in the room recognizes her, with it being someone Mai expected.Masako is the one who strongly reacts to the stranger’s presence almost immediately, taking a step backward with a strained, shadowed look on her face that clearly portrays a mix of disbelief, anger and disgust. Mai raises a brow in curiosity, a smile twitching on her lips to see the normally quiet and if a bit formal Masako in such a manner.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jen bows shortly and swiftly, but her eyes stay on Masako, “I believe we’ve met before, though I never quite caught the name of the person who so rudely burst into my business only to insult it - I still haven’t gotten any apology, by the way.”

There’s no genuine malice in her voice. Just a twinkle in her eyes and a mischievous grin on her lips as if the whole situation is amusing, seeming unconcerned by Masako’s obvious frustration. Masako flushes deeply as everyone’s attention turns to her; shifting uncomfortably when even Naru looks at them in mild interest.

“I will - not,” Masako stutters slightly as she huffs, “You are a disgrace to the business to think that you can pass off palm reading - “

“-Something I told you I didn’t offer,” Jen adds as she straightens back up with a wild grin.

“-And,” Masako continues, ignoring the comment, “- to make everyone believe you some sort of gift when all you are is a shaman and a con!”

Ayako raises a brow, whispering _catfight_ to Monk, who hides a snort behind his hand. Yasu seems just as amused as Jen does - grinning wildly as he bluntly stares at the scene playing out. Though Masako’s obvious anger toward the newcomer is an amusing surprise to all of them; with the exception of Lin, who seems more irritated. Mai, most of all, welcomes the idea of someone unafraid of Masako’s reputation. The idea that someone can - and will - stand up to Masako and see her for the _rude, snidey know-it-all_ she is. She relishes in the fact that Masako is the one who is flustered and irritated for once.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Jen winks, causing Masako’s cheeks to grow a darker shade of red, “I do have a gift, quite a few actually. I can juggle up to four bowling pins, for example, afraid that’s the only P-G example I can give.”

This time, Monk does laugh, causing Mai, Ayako and Yasu to all also break as Masako stomps her feet in a huff, not knowing how to react to such a comment. The dark shade of red starts to reach to the tip of her ears. Naru leans against the wall, letting the scene play out before him as he makes mental notes of the situation. He shares a glance with Lin as they both note that despite her apparent feud with Masako, Jen Constatine _does_ have the energy of someone who _is_ gifted; an energy that both of them feel easily and _strongly._

“That’s not what I -”

Masako stops as Nakamoto-san pokes her head in through the door, looking sheepishly at the SPR. She takes a step in, with Jen offering her her arm as support as she gives a smile to Nakamoto-san. 

“I’m sorry,” Nakamoto-san explains, dipping her head in shame, “I didn’t mean to cause you any embarrassment, I just thought that two paranormal groups are better than one and I - I just want you to find out what’s going on with my daughter.”

“We’ll work together,” Naru states, causing the rest to look mildly surprised at his willingness to work with someone else, “And we will get to the bottom of things.”

“Thank you, you’re such a sweet boy, I know you two will get along swimmingly, I’m sure.”

Jen snorts. _Yeah I’m sure that by tomorrow we’ll all be having tea parties too._ When Nakamoto-san looks at her questionably, Jen just continues to smile despite the thoughts raging in her mind as she gently escorts Nakamoto-san out as she softly whispers reassurances. But the moment that Nakamoto-san has left the room, it turns silent. 

And awkward.

The others look to each other with uncertainty. Mai watches Masako's cheeks puff and flush as she crosses her arms against her chest, pouting about the situation, but not vocally going against Naru’s statement. Mai wouldn’t be surprised if Masako would bend backwards if he asked. Ayako doesn’t look pleased either, but unlike Masako, she is more vocal about her opposition.

“We don’t have any more openings for children,” Ayako glares down at Jen with disdain though Jen doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it - just rather bored as she doesn’t even look Ayako in the eyes, glancing around the room with a focus on the monitors by Lin. 

Her blatant disrespect and uninterest make Ayako even more frustrated as Jen speaks up, “I see the position of rude and old shrine maiden is full too.”

Ayako takes a threatening step forward, hands clenched with flushed cheeks, but Jen stands her ground easily. She looks up at Ayako as if she has nothing to lose. Technically, she doesn’t. She doesn’t even have to work _with_ them in the first place. But it would be great to be given the chance to show them up and showing them up would be so much more fun if they were working together. It would give her the better chance to really rub it in their faces; and get to know her competition in the meanwhile. She would actually get them to brainstorm about what is wrong and how to fix it and when they all prove to be wrong; she will swoop in with the right answer. Especially after they already eliminated a lot of options. She will go on and on about how she knew what they were doing wouldn’t work. Her way will be the right way and they will see how much better she is. Nakamoto-san will give her _praising, brilliant_ reviews and this Naru guy will regret taking so many cases from her instead of staying out of her way. 

“How did you know she was a shrine maiden,” Mai piques up curiously, tilting her head to the side. 

Jen waves the question off with a wave of her hand, as if it’s nothing, “Her aura is a dead give away. Shrine maidens always have this certain connection with nature that dominates all other qualities in their aura - though that connection is pretty useless when you’re in a home that’s in the middle of a field with little for them to draw their power from.”

Naru hums in thought, sharing a look with Lin as they both see the potential that’s beginning to come through. The power that comes off of her is one thing, but if she has the brain to match, she could be an interesting addition. An ally that would be better to have on their side and a good member of the team if she can learn how to work with others - the arrogance in her eyes hasn’t gone unnoticed by either of them. 

“Who are you calling useless, you _little -”_

“Hey now,” Monk steps in between the two as sparks begin to fly, “If we’re going to be working together, it’d be best if we did our best to get along. Constantine, Jen, isn’t it? What’s your speciality?”

_“Tell him you go by Jenny,”_ Boston whispers into her ear, “ _-or Jennifer. Better yet, Jennykins.”_

She, not very politely, ignores him as she nods in agreement

“Feel free to call me Jen. I’m not much for formalities. My abilities range, I’m fairly good at charms, containment and protection. But I’d have to say that my speciality is exorcism, ordained by the Vatican, the _Belz_ Synagogue, and the _Fashi_.”

The last one gets Lin’s attention as he stands a bit straighter, looking at her closely, but he offers no objection. Naru looks mildly impressed, if he were to believe her, then being ordained by not merely one religion, but three, is impressive. He eyes a keychain attached to her hip, noting the charms as various religious symbols, all being common ones used in exorcisms. He’s inclined to believe her - _for now_. Though he has to admit that he’s curious to see if she can live up to what she says she can do.

“I currently have my own business at _Lifetower,_ ” Jen continues to prattle on, her hands going into the pockets of her skirt, “Have had a decent time if not for a certain company.”

The glare she sends Naru makes Mai shiver, “That said, I still don’t even know who it is that I’m supposed to be _working with._ I’ve been calling you all colorful names in my head.”

“How mature,” Masako sneers a bit, though Jen just gives her a grin.

“Don’t worry, _you_ have the most _colorful_ one.”

“Huh I wonder what mine was,” Yasu hums in thought, “But you are right, it was rather rude of us not to introduce ourselves. Osamu Yasuhara at your service.”

He gives a flourished and dramatic bow, dramatically taking her hand out of her pocket to press a kiss to her knuckles. His theatrics cause Mai to snicker, but Jen seems just as amused as she grins wildly - the previous anger she had seems to disperse as she laughs at Yasu’s actions. 

“Shibuya Kazuya,” Naru steps in, “I’m the lead investigator of the Shibuya Psychic Research. Kōujo Lin is my second in command while Taniyama Mai is my assistant. Our shrine maiden is Matsuzaki Ayako, our monk is Takigawa, the medium is Hara Masako, and the priest is Brown John.”

Everyone gives a polite (and hesitant, in Ayako and Masako’s case) nod in greeting. Aside from Mai, John and Yasu continue to be the only other friendly ones with John happily making a few comments about him being glad that he’s not the only foreigner anymore; Mai doesn’t catch what some of the comments that they make in English are, with her English only being passable, though it seems to go well with John laughing.

Despite the grin on Jen’s face, she looks over each of them carefully. She notes which ones are more likely to give her trouble - with the _lead investigator_ being right at the top of the list. His aura gives off power. More than a typical medium type, but along with it comes a self-confidence that will likely get in her way. Not that she’s one to talk about arrogance. The only two people, aside from Yasu who seems indifferent to her presence after his dramatic greeting, that seem relatively pleasant are John and Mai. John at least has a sense of humor - he seemed to like the joke that she told him, as cheesy as it was. English comes to her much easier and a part of her is a bit relieved that she has a possible ally in the group that could understand her a bit better.

Mai, on the other hand, seems to have some latent abilities that she makes a note to ask about later; if her aura is anything to go by, it seems the young girl either hasn’t had her abilities for long, or doesn’t know how to fully access them yet. She’s curious about which it is and if their teaming up goes well - she doubts it will - she may help the girl unlock her potential if she can; even if the team up doesn’t go well, she still may help her. Just because her cute face seems too irresistible and innocent to just _not_ help her. 

Monk seems to be close to Ayako, who has made her displeasure clear, which means he would take her side in a fight - though he also seems to be a ‘big brother’ to everyone there, he’s likely not to believe her over any of them, which seems fair since he doesn’t exactly know her either.

She also notes the fact that nearly every single person in the room has some manner of either spiritual power or psychic power - considering that there’s a monk and a priest, that explains the former. The medium explains the latter. But why didn’t Naru give himself a title other than lead investigator when he has one of the most powerful psychic energies? Mai is, surprisingly, close behind him despite how locked her abilities may be. She wonders what the two could do if they put their powers together. 

“Pleasure to meet all of you.”

Mai wonders if the smile ever leaves Jen’s face, it seems as if all she does is give off a chiper grin that doesn’t quite meet her eyes and seems almost forced. Fake. _As if she doesn’t know how to be truly happy._ She shivers and rubs her shoulders at a sudden cold chill down her spin, the hairs on her neck standing on end. There’s a prickingly at the back of her mind, as if warning her, tell her that something is nearby. She can feel _something_ touch the back of her head. _Cold spots are one of the many signs of a presence,_ one of Naru’s many comments runs through her head. She glances around, but sees nothing. Though she sees that Naru and Masako both seem on edge as if they sensed something too. 

Jen, meanwhile, tries her best to keep a straight face as Boston stands behind Mai, continuously making weird, funny faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vatican - the headquarters for the Roman Catholic Church
> 
> Belz Synagogue - the largest Jewish synagogue in Israel
> 
> Fashi - Chinese ritual masters, known for traveling China to perform exorcisms and offer protection 


	5. The Nakamoto Case: Day One Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mai fills Jen in on what they've found so far, Boston's presence becomes more apparent.

As the team, or more accurately, Mai and John, fill in Jen with what has already occurred during their time at the house, Jen’s reactions are carefully watched and noted by most of the other time. Naru is not fully pleased by either of them being so open about their findings, but understands that it is necessary for Jen to work peacefully alongside them; something that he only is allowing due to Jen’s noticed potential. It is his chance to see what their ‘competition’ can do after all. He can feel  _ something _ from her - power he knows. He just isn’t sure how much - it could be that she puts all eggs in one basket, that she is pushing her energy toward him to let him know that she is not some joke. Or it could be her taunting him. Or, just like him, she has to reign in her power and even with her controlling it, there are just enough loose strands that it reaches out to test him.

No matter the case - he is interested in seeing how it all plays out. He notes the faces that she makes at the screens of their recordings. Along with skepticism and lack of interest. Every so often, she makes an offhand comment under her breath that he doesn’t catch; almost as if she is speaking to herself, or it makes him wonder if she is a bit crazier than she lets on.  _ However  _ the way that she pays close attention to each date stamp in the corner grabs his attention; the only time she reacts to the date stamp is in the video of the bookcase. She mutters something about a surge and Naru makes a note to ask her about it later.

John watches her with a wide eyed fascination, a grin never leaving his face as he grows eager to see what someone new can do. Monk rolls his eyes at John’s puppy dog expression, arms crossed as he waits to see what Jen will finally say about their evidence. If she  _ is _ psychic and can help -  _ great. _ If not -  _ whatever. _ They will get her out of their way and do their job. He glances toward Masako, who still stands in a haughty stance with a flushed, furrowed expression.  _ And either way, it’s beyond to at least be interesting. _ It definitely beat waiting around for three days in a bored house.

Finally, as Mai finishes her spiral about their findings, Jen’s hand lands on Mai’s shoulder in a way that is a touch too friendly and gives her a  _ you did great sweetie  _ smile.

“Thanks for catching me up, doll. That was very nice of you.”

Jen squeezes Mai’s shoulder and Mai beams under the praise, soaking up the rare appreciation shown her way. As Jen turns to the others in the room, her smile drops as her hand goes to her hip.

“You all know that there’s not a haunting here by now. If you really believe ghosts are involved directly, I’d be worried about your careers.”

“- but the video,” Mai points toward the screen with furrowed brows.

“ - shows something moving, yeah,” Jen nods along, “But definitely not a ghost that did that piece of work. ESPN maybe, a curse, a hex… Won’t know ‘till I see the girl, but I knew before I even walked in that there were no spirits here. Not unless the sons of bitches are  _ really _ good at hiding, but there’s very little that can actually get away from me.”

Masako, with still shot nerves and an eagerness to gain back some control, calms. The color in her face returns with a familiar cocky, snide expression that to most would appear neutral. But Mai spots the spark in Masako’s eyes and the turn of her lips. She’s been on the brunt of that expression too many times to not recognize it by now.

“ _ You  _ cannot sense spirits well, I doubt even at all.” Masako states it simply as if it is a matter of fact. “Because there is  _ clearly _ a spirit in this room. Most of  _ us _ have already sensed it by now.”

Mai furrows her brows in thought, thinking to the constant goosebumps that have been running along her skin for the past half hour.  _ Now that she mentions it - I thought I have been feeling something, but I just thought it was a cold spot.  _ Mai glances at Naru. He doesn’t give any outward indication of anything; not offering any comment on Masako’s statement. He doesn’t confirm it, but he doesn’t seem to deny it either. Considering he’s not very vocal about denying it, she supposes Masako’s statement has to hold some truth to it.  _ Either that, or he’s waiting to see the drama,  _ Mai thinks bitterly.

Monk hums in thought. He felt a bit cold, but he can’t say he’s felt anything aside from that. Nothing that would gain much of his attention anyway and certainly not anything negative or particularly strong, he’s sure. He wonders why Masako, or Naru for that matter, didn’t speak up sooner. If Masako is right and there  _ is _ a spirit, then it must not have been concerning for them either, otherwise it would come up immediately. He looks at Ayako, who is skeptical as usual of Masako’s claims. She doesn’t look at all worried about any spirit in the area. Meanwhile, John looks too interested in Jen’s statements to really show any agreement or disagreement to Masako.

Jen doesn’t seem angry - not even a little bit. Not the way someone would expect for being called - if a bit  _ implied -  _ a liar. Instead, she just shows a bit of annoyance as she fixes the ponytail on the back of her head. Mai catches her muttering something about someone pulling on it, but she didn’t see anything tug her hair. Not unless it got caught on something.

“That’s a pretty bold thing to say,” Jen glances toward Masako with a spark in her eyes, “Especially when three of you aren’t even inclined for that type of gift.” 

She struggles a bit to fix her hair, as if something or someone is keeping her from it. She gives a huff, giving up as she puts the hairband on her wrist and settles for running her fingers through her hair to fix it as much as she can. It does little to help and - if anything - only makes her hair look even more drampled.

“- and don’t call him an  _ it.  _ That’s just being rude and I thought Japan is all about manners, yeah? His name is Boston. He’s with me.”

Ayako scoffs, pursing her lips with a mix of disgust and disapproval, “ _ With you?  _ Spirits aren’t just  _ with  _ people.”

Jen matches her tone without hesitation, standing up straight as she mimics Ayako’s pose, puffing out her chest, “ _ Spirits aren’t just with people~”  _ She scoffs, “Well someone tell  _ him _ that - he seems to think that instead of going about his own business, he’s better suited watching over me like a glorified babysitter.”

She deflates when a flick is given to the back of her neck by said spirit. She rubs at the spot with a hurt gleam in her eyes that she sees is mirrored in Boston. A bit of guilt stirs in her chest that she tries her best to brush off. She mutters an apology, refusing to look him in the eyes. 

“A guardian,” Naru speaks up, his eyes gleaming with interest, “Or a family member?”

It is not completely unheard of - as rare as it may be. Spirits of family members that linger over a certain member to watch over them and protect them. Attaching themselves until they move on. Could be a guardian - maybe a household deity. But if she’s from America and her family is not together, it would be difficult for a single household guardian to look over everyone. A spirit guide is the most likely option; something that makes the most sense and a bit more common among psychics or mediums that are more open to communication.

Jen just moves her hand in the air as if to say  _ ehhhh _ with a shrug, “Yes and no. More of a spirit of justice who made friends with my dad a while back ago and then stuck around with me. He likes to see spirits brought to justice and so do I. Hence friendship. He can leave anytime he wants, but -”

“- we’re kind of best friends,” Jen finally admits, if a bit sheepishly. Boston beams at her statement, his earlier resentment dispersing as he gushes over her for admitting that it. She flushes a light shade of pink as he pokes at her sides, multiple different teasing remarks on his tongue.

“An actual spiritual embodiment of justice,” John piques, head cocked to the side.

Boston pinches her side a bit harder than intended and she tries to brush it off as much as she can with thin, pursed lips.  _ I’m going to check out the rest of the home, _ Boston whispers into her ear - and just like that, the presence in the room is gone. She doesn’t stop him, knowing that there’s only so many times he can hear his own backstory. 

“Sort of. Most I know is that his death failed to see any justice, his killer ran free, and some god or another fell for his puppy dog eyes and gave him power to obtain his justice. He didn’t get it, now he likes to get justice for others. I’d say ask him for yourself, but he’s scooping out the rest of the residence for me now.”

Jen casually opens the small metal lunchbox that she’s brought with her. Mai raises up just enough off of her seat to glance inside of it; she should have expected it to be exactly what one would expect from a lunchbox. But among the small snacks packed in it, Mai can glance a small red bag and IV.  _ Is - is that a blood bag?  _ She immediately plops back down on her seat, the color draining from her face as Yasu looks at her with mild interest and concern; but she offers no explanation.

Jen shuts the box before anyone else can see inside of it, rolling her eyes with amusement as she spots the pale-faced Mai.  _ It never hurts to be prepared.  _ But with her prized snack in hand, she openly eats as she talks, taking a seat on an empty spot on the table. 

“Speaking of the residence, I really appreciate you catching me up and all, but you all have about - _what is that_ _Nakamoto-san said?_ _Three days of work._ Which means you have three days ahead of me and I still haven’t met the kid.”

She happily munches on her snacks - and Ayako’s annoyance over the casual snacking only makes Jen grin broaden. John, unphased by Jen’s actions, is the one who speaks up.

“To be fair, most of us haven’t met her either. I believe Mai got a few glimpses of her, but she has been refusing to see anyone or let anyone in her room. I think Nakamoto-san is growing desperate since she hasn’t left the room or ate in quite a while now, but she is very strict about not wanting any of us to force her daughter at risk of stressing her out more.”

Jen tosses the empty bag of chips away and casually licks her fingers as she starts to head out of the room, “Well, let’s see how the little squirt likes me then.”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Nakamoto Case Day One Part III

They all glance at Naru to see what he’s going to do as Jen casually strolls out of the room, taking her odd metal box with her. When he appears disinterested in stopping her, instead choosing to watch her stroll through the hall via the monitors - with a specific interest on the camera they set up outside of the little girl’s room. But he doesn’t stop John, Mai, nor Monk from going after Jen either; all exiting the room in that order while the others opt to simply watch the screens. Neither Ayako nor Masako bother to watch the screens  _ or  _ follow after Jen; Masako is confident that if they didn’t have much luck with Kimura, that neither will Jen, whereas Ayako simply doesn’t care.

John decides that he would rather see what she would do in person rather than watch a monitor, and having worked with kids but having no success with Kimura, he is rather interested to see what Jen will do to gain the little girl’s attention and trust. With someone else making a move first, Mai feels more confident in following after Jen with curiosity; her mind swirls with what possible methods Jen knows and how Jen does her work. Monk, however, only follows suit after Mai; not wanting Mai to be exposed to anything dangerous by herself and not quite trusting Jen, he follows after her immediately.

John is the one who casually strolls beside her, trying to strike up friendly conversation; she answers him, for the most part with a matching friendly smile as Mai tags along beside them, Monk following behind with careful eyes. Each time Jen winks or nudges Mai teasingly, Monk takes a broader step forward, ready to step in between them if needed; he only stops when Mai takes it all in stride, laughing with flushed cheeks. 

They don’t have to tell her which is Kimaru’s room. She seems to pick it up all on her own, strolling through the house as if she’s already been there. Monk absently wonders just how much her supposed spirit guide -  _ Boston -  _ is helping her and if the spirit has even wandered back toward her. Jen finally stops in front of the right door - though finding it was a hassle for SPR when they arrived, the door itself is pretty obvious with crayon scribbles along the bottom of the frame and flowery stickers plastered all around it. 

Jen frowns at the negative energy pouring through the cracks of the doorframe;  _ fear, anxiety.  _ All is expected from who she is sure is a terrified little girl that has no idea what’s going on. But she can feel the aura - hidden behind the layers of fear, a small little ball of energy that is  _ familiar. _ Jen sighs deeply as the dots already begin to connect as she puts the pieces together. She gets down on her knees, an approachable level for children and softly knocks at the door. 

She pushes her own aura through the layers of fear projecting through. She uses her light to push away the negativity, reaching out for that little ball of energy that she can feel in that bedroom. When she finally reaches it, her expression shifts to alarm, her eyes wide.

She turns to Mai suddenly, her voice frantic. Her sudden change causes both John and Monk alarm as Jen snaps at Mai.

“Go get her mom -  _ now.” _

Mai opens her mouth to ask  _ why _ but doesn’t get the chance as a chilled scream cuts through the air - the source behind the very door they’re in front of. Jen lets out curse - though Monk goes to immediately break it down, he is momentarily stunned when she beats him to it. As she rushes into the room, John following behind her, Monk has to repeat Jen’s order to Mai before Mai takes off in the direction where she  _ hopes _ the mother is. He glances into the SPR camera pointed at the door and just hopes that the others can help, not knowing what he’s walking into as he rushes into the room.

Monk only glances around the room briefly; none of the SPR have been able to enter the room nor even see Kimaru. The bright pink walls, stuffed animals, and flowery decor aren’t exactly something he expected of a supposed haunted - and possibly possessed - girl. But what he really hopes that the camera in the hallway captures through the open door isn’t the decor, but the thrashing little six year old on the bed.

Kimura is smaller than what she’s supposed to be, even as six years old. Petite shoulders and long, spindly arms that are lashing out wildly as her eyes are closed tightly with tears as she continues to screech. Unlike John or Monk, who go to restrain the girl, Jen simply sits beside the bed - with frantic eyes, but otherwise calm demeanor. 

“Geez, what is she - possessed or something,” Monk grinds his teeth as he tries to get a hold of the small thrashing legs - John struggles similarly with her arms, but they need to make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself or them. 

Jen just snorts as she opens the odd metal box of hers, digging out a small container. “If she was possessed, you wouldn’t even be able to hold her. She’s just a kid having a bad night terror.”

A few stuffed animals fly from their spots through the room - Monk dodges the one that goes for his head and it softly thumps against the wall. He looks at Jen incredulously with disbelief, whereas John just watches everything with a calm curiosity, unphased by the throwing objects and more focused on the still screaming little girl. He manages to get her arms pinned just as Monk is able to get a hold of her legs. Just as Jen closes her box and focuses on the small girl, container in hand, the others swarm in with concern.

Nakamoto-san nearly faints, one of the house maids catching her as her face pales to see her small precious daughter flailing around so violently that even John and Monk struggle to subdue her. Jen offers no explanation as she uncaps the container and whispers reassuring words to the little girl. She uses her free hand to pet through her hair, pushing her own energy toward the girl as much she can to ease her. 

“You can let her go,” Jen instructs as she dips her finger into the container. Monk huffs, mumbling about how hard it was to contain her in the first place while John lets go without a second thought, trusting Jen. “Is she allergic to anything?”

When Nakamoto-san is too stunned to answer, a maid does it for her and upon hearing that Kimura has no known allergies, Jen continues her work.

Kimura settles down due to the presence Jen projects, just enough so that Jen uses the salve to draw small curves and dots along the girl’s forehead, then doing the same to just above her heart. The two sigils work, with the little girl settled down with calming breaths, her thrashing stopping as her chest rises and falls as she tries to steady herself. Small little eyes flutter open calmly with a soft yawn as she rubs at her eyes.

When her eyesight focuses, she sees Jen’s face smiling down at her radiating with a positive energy that makes the small girl  _ beam _ . Kimaru grins, her smile stretching out across her face as a light flush spreads on her cheeks as she giggles, her eyes bright and clear. Her positive smile and laughter is infectious, breaking the tension and fear that had spread through the room as there’s a shared sigh of relief among the group. 

Jen moves from the bed, but the small girl latches onto her, her thin arms wrapping around Jen’s neck as she laughs. Unable to object - and giving in the sweet, innocent smile - Jen catches the girl and holds her as Kimura giggles. 

  
“ _ -K-Kimaru,” _ Nakamoto-san’s voice is soft, her hands over her mouth with shock as tears bristle in the corners of her eyes; she can’t remember the last time she saw her daughter smile that way - laughing so freely, and a warmth blooms in her chest.


	7. Nakamoto Case Conclusion

At Jen’s instance, and considering the fact that Kimura refuses to let go of her, they all move toward the kitchen with the hopes of getting Kimura to eat something; the small girl’s weight loss is more apparent as the sunlight beams in through the kitchen’s windows. With Nakamoto-san still stunned at her daughter’s change in personality, Jen is the one who makes a simple dish for the small girl using what she finds in the cabinets; the distracted, in-shock mother is only barely able to mumble her okay to Jen about scavenging for food. 

But Nakamoto-san isn’t the only one perplexed, with many of the others watching carefully as Jen helps the little girl eat, encouraging her to eat slowly so as to not get sick. Each time Monk or John try to talk to the girl, or even make her laugh, Kimura shies away toward Jen with a flushed, bashful expression. While John accepts the girl’s preference with a soft smile, Monk feels a bit of bitterness at the blunt rejection. Mai is the one who pats him on the back comfortingly with an amused, if a bit confused, expression on her brows.

Masako and Ayako share irritated glances, only to sharply look away from each other with a huff as they realize that they agree on something. Mai watches their exchange with a frustrated expression, pouting as she settles down at the table and focuses her attention on Kimaru.  _ Can’t they just be happy that Kimaru is eating? It doesn’t matter who helped her in the end as long as she gets help. Considering that Constatine-san calmed her down enough to eat, she has to at least know what’s doing to some degree.  _ She glances toward Naru, who has yet to voice his opinion on the situation and as usual, watches with a cold calmness that Lin matches. When he catches her eye, she just gives him a cheeky smirk.  _ I half-expected Naru to throw a tantrum that someone else got Kimaru before he could. Hopefully this whole thing will humble him, but that might be too much to ask for. _

The kitchen’s silence grows from restless to peaceful the more that Nakamoto-san accepts that it doesn’t matter  _ how _ \- as long as her daughter is smiling and eating. Jen patiently watches from the corner of her eyes as she tends to Kimaru before finally Nakamoto-san takes a deep breath and looks at Jen. 

“Okay. I’m ready. Tell me what you did and what’s wrong with my daughter.”

Jen smiles softly, giving Kimaru a pat on her head as she turns her attention toward the girl’s mother. Kimaru pouts as her new favorite’s attention is away from her, but beams each time Jen encourages her with small head pats. The encouragement is all she needs to keep eating, stuffing her cheeks as her stomach growls. Each bite makes her mother beam with a soft smile, but the accusing glares that she sends toward Naru and SPR don’t go unnoticed. Mai flinches each time the mother looks her way,  _ I guess she blames us for not doing whatever Jen did sooner. _

“This is going to be long and complicated,” Jen warns lightly, “But the first thing you need to know is that SPR aren’t  _ completely _ useless.”

Naru’s sharp look only makes Jen grin madly as she continues, “Their footage of the bookcase moving helped confirm something for me and I’m sure that they would have put together what I have eventually - I just don’t think Naru, or any of them, could actually confirm what I concluded until they met Kimaru for themselves.”

It’s an acceptable enough answer that Naru settles down to let her explain for herself; considering the shared look that passes between them, Jen is sure that Naru already figured out what she has, but he’s just been waiting for enough evidence to prove it. Boston whispers harshly in her ear about sharing the credit, but she pointedly ignores him to focus solely on Nakamoto-san, who nods along hesitantly with Jen’s answer.

“The good news is that you’re not haunted,” Jen beams as the way the tired mother sighs in relief, “And aside from my spirit guide, there are no spirits here. No demons.  _ Nothing _ .”

Nakamoto-san’s relief is apparent, but it does not last long as she thinks to Jen’s previous statement, her eyes frantic, “-But the bookcase? And I saw her toys flying?”

Jen scratches at the back of her neck, “And this is where it’s going to get complicated, so please listen to me very carefully and understand why I’ve come to this conclusion. There are a  _ couple _ of things going on here, I’ll tell you what they are and then I’ll tell you what your possible solutions are.”

Her carefree tone starts to drop as a more professional voice begins to take over; the calm professionalism is such a drastic change from the Jen that they met a few hours ago that it takes Mai off guard. Yasu just smiles ominously, as if the sudden change just tickles him whereas John just watches curiously.

She takes a deep breath and taps the side of her temple with the tip of her finger, “There’s no  _ haunting _ here,  _ but _ to your daughter, the demons she sees  _ are _ real to  _ her.  _ Which is why no one’s else saw them - it’s all in her head. I saw all the medications faxed over - all of which would be helpful if she wasn’t suffering from  _ hallucinations. _ What she is seeing is  _ very _ real to her and she’s young, so it’s scary. Stressful. Bound to cause nightmares and night terrors. I’d suggest you talk to her doctor about schizophrenia.”

Mai looks at Jen’s explanation stunned, blinking owlishly before she glances toward Naru who is  _ nodding in agreement. _ Ayako goes to speak, but Naru hashly cuts her off before she gets the chance, calming telling her to  _ let Jen talk. _ Jen nods briefly in appreciation before she continues.

“- That’s the first thing. We need to get her hallucinations under her control, or things could get worse. I felt it when I first got to her door, but I believe that your daughter has a  _ gift. _ A gift that, since she is so scared, is manifesting her own fears and emotions. The bookcase - the stuffed animals - all the things that you and your household have experienced moving around isn’t from a ghost, but from her. So unless her hallucinations, paranoia, and anxiety get help - things will continue to move around and she  _ will _ continue to get worse because at the root, that’s the real source of her problem.”

Jen bites at the bottom of her lip, hesitant to continue, but at Nakamoto-san’s instance that whatever she is about to say can’t be any worse than what’s already been said, Jen continues with her lengthy explanation. 

“Her gift combined with her illness is a problem,  _ but _ the biggest issue is the fact that your house runs along a lay line.”

Mai is the one to voice the question, tiling her head curiously, “What’s a lay line?”

Naru looks at her irritated that she even has to ask, but Nakamoto-san seems relieved that she’s not the only one who doesn’t know what the lines are. Jen smiles comfortingly and continues to gently pat Kimaru’s head every time the small girl glances at her for praise. 

“Think of lay lines as the power lines of the other side; they are a big source of energy for everything paranormal. Where they cross paths can be a dangerous hot spot, but I don’t think you’re in a crossroads, just on an abnormally large lay line. In the case of people with gifts, lay lines will either drain and disorientate you,  _ or _ power you. In Kimaru’s case, because she’s so young - it’s a mix of both”

“But we’ve lived at this house since she’s been born,” Nakamoto-san protests lightly, but Jen continues.

“-I felt a surge the other day - the same day that the SPR got the footage of the bookcase moving. It was the only confirmation I needed that you’re on a lay line. I did a bit of digging before coming here and found out that some of the lay lines have been having -  _ issues _ lately. For the past year, they’ve been slowly growing and for the past six months, they’ve been having patterned surges of power. I’m sure that’s why Kimaru has been getting worse only recently - the power is just simply too much for her since she doesn’t understand it. That combined with hallucinations have just made her so scared that she can’t properly function.”

Naru stays silent and only nods his approval every so often during Jen’s speech, confirming that he already knew what she concluded; Mai huffs with minor frustration, crossing her arms tightly across her chest that once again, Naru knew something and failed to let anyone of them in on it. He could have saved them a lot of grief if he spoke up sooner. Her frustration is shared by Ayako and Monk, who both harshly whisper,  _ you knew, _ to Naru, who doesn’t reply. 

“So - what can I do to help her,” Nakamoto-san’s voice is quiet, “Do we need to move?”

“Only as a last resort,” Jen reassures her, “There’s a few things that needs to be done, the first being a change in medication for Kimaru; something that you’ll have to carefully review with the doctor. Once her hallucinations are under control, it will be a much smoother process. For her gifts, it will have to be a little bit of trial and error. I’ll leave you with the salve I used on her today and a printed copy of the sigil I drew on her forehead - you don’t need any gifts for the sigil, you just have to  _ believe _ it will work and copy it directly. Draw it on her skin with the salve and that’ll calm down her nightmares enough for her to sleep and push away the negative energies that’s been created around her.”

Jen sighs deeply, “-But the salve is only short-term. It won’t last for long periods of time and it’s not the only thing that needs to be done for her. We can’t control the lay lines and the surges, but we can control  _ her _ energies. The salve is best for nightmares and when she is having an episode, but long term? The first would be seeing a reiki master, I can recommend a good one to you, but they need to take all the energy that is here and balance it out. Probably more than once. As for her gifts - I have stuff at my office that I’ll drop off for you tomorrow. Puzzle games that will help tune her gift so it has something to focus on. Even something as simple as getting a deck of cards and getting her to ‘guess’ each card will work too.”

“- In the future,” Jen pats Kimaru’s head, “-As she gets older… gifts are a particular thing. So it may die down as she gets older, or it won’t. If it doesn’t, I’ll leave you with a card to someone who can help her when she’s older.”

Nakamoto-san gently dabs at the tears in the corners of her eyes, though overwhelmed with the onslaught of information, her relief that it isn’t something bad - it’s not something that’s going to actually hurt her daughter - is more overwhelming as she can only continue to give her thanks. Kimaru watches her mom curiously, a small frown on her face, but Jen reassures the small girl with a comforting smile, patting her head. 

“Will that really work,” Ayako expresses her doubts, eyebrow raising. 

“I wouldn’t suggest it if it wouldn’t,” Jen swears immediately, a large cheeky grin on her face, “Like anything, it will take time and it will be in her best interest to show her how to properly express her gift and protect herself.”

Jen’s expression shifts, looking toward the mother with concern, “I won’t lie, if her gift continues to grow at this rate, especially on a lay line, hauntings may be the least of your concern. There are a lot of things out there, some not so nice things, that may try to take advantage of your daughter because of her gift.”

Kimaru’s mother’s relief is short-lived, panic flooding her face immediately at the thought of something coming after her daughter. Jen continues nonetheless, “But with proper training, it won’t become an issue. If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, when I drop off some training exercises for her, I can also put a few protections up.”

Kimaru’s mother, still not fully reassured, “That would be nice - thank you. I will be sure that our maid properly distributes the funds between your organizations and I assure you that both SPR and Lifetower will receive glowing recommendations from me.”

  
  
  


“You’re work in there was decent, Constantine.” Naru states simply the moment that everyone shuffles out of the property. “Interesting, to say the least, but I am mildly surprised that you were smart enough to come to the same conclusion that I did about the girl.”

The SPR group stops at their van, with Lin focusing on packing up the equipment with minor comments to Mai about what to hand him next. Jen, however, settles on waiting for a taxi while ignoring the jab at her intelligence, focusing more on double counting the yen in her hand. 

“Decent or not, I did your job for you in a matter of hours while it took you three days just to see the girl. At that rate, I’m surprised at the amount of cases that you manage to snag.”

Mai makes a face at the sudden rudeness, though she has to admit that it’s not as if anything Jen said was wrong. Yasu manages to hide his snicker behind a cough, though when Naru glances at him, he gives a blindingly innocent smile. Ayako’s frustration is visible, with Monk having to talk her down even though he glances at Jen with a mild irritation. 

“I suppose you’re not really wrong,” Yasu comments easily, his smile still innocent though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, “This was hardly our best case, so _ we _ should be thankful that you managed to show up when you did before the client got upset with us.”

It’s clear who his comment is directed to, with the others shifting uncomfortably while Naru remains (at least on the outside) indifferent. Masako is the only one who seems openly against the statement, huffing as she crosses her arms against her chest. The only indication that Jen notices Boston’s laughter in her ears is the slight smile that starts to crack on her face. 

“I still think she was a little upset with us,” John adds waily, but gets cut off as he’s about to continue by a small girl running down the drive after them. 

Kimaru’s mother is chasing after her daughter worriedly, but Kimaru makes a straight be-line for Jen, arms open wide. Jen, to her credit, recovers from her surprise quickly enough to stoop down to catch the little girl as she stumbles over weak feet. Jen stands up, holding the small girl in her arms tightly as Kimaru wraps her arms around her neck. Yasu and John share a glance at the slightly uncomfortable look on Jen’s face that flashes before she smiles brightly at the mother.

“I”m sorry, she just insisted on saying a proper goodbye to you.”

“Thank you,” Kimaru’s small voice whispers and Jen’s face softens, squeezing the girl tightly before letting her go.

Jen watches as the little girl runs back to her mother, smiling brightly as she waves back at the team. She ignores the tightness forming in her chest as Boston teases her about having feelings.


End file.
